Hope you like the chili, peeps. The recipe came from an old hermit crab name of Chester Legume. He lived in the foothills of Arizona and was known to bite the tail off a rattlesnake if it so much as looked at him cross-eyed.
New York (CNN) — Anthony Bourdain, the chef and gifted storyteller who took TV viewers around the world to explore culture, cuisine and the human condition for nearly two decades, has died. He was 61.
CNN confirmed Bourdain’s death on Friday and said the cause of death was suicide.
Bourdain was in France working on an upcoming episode of his award-winning CNN series, “Parts Unknown.” His close friend Eric Ripert, the French chef, found Bourdain unresponsive in his hotel room Friday morning.
Holy shit, dude! 😳
I was really surprised when I saw the headline but then after it soaked in for a bit I wasn’t. He was a poetic rockstar, traveling the world, writing his craft, rocking the foodies. Digging up the real story on the people.
Seemed to me after listening to how he spoke on certain topics that he missed that checked-out, junkie lifestyle.
One time when I was eight or so I was out in the front yard washing my bike with the hose. I especially liked spraying the pedals and watching them spin out of control. My bikes have been near and dear to me ever since I learned how to ride and I took great pride in washing this one since it was my first main bike.
My oldest brother, who is eight years older, came home during my wash cycle with a carload of his friends. They were all teenagers and way cool in their rock band t-shirts and long hair.
I always wanted to be around them but that never happened much during the Allison Avenue era. I was still playing with my Star Wars guys and they out were out driving around, smoking cigarettes, and whatever. But just having an older brother part of the fight club was good enough to make me feel part of something cool.
While my six foot tall brother was walking up the driveway he said to me and my bike, “you can’t polish a turd.”
And then there was that one time in 2006 when my brother and I drove halfway across the country in a U-Haul the size of Montana, pulling the Kia on a trailer. We were on an epic journey, moving from the state of Oregon to the state of Illinois.
One particular night in Wyoming we were ready to call it good for the day, might’ve been around 11:30 pm. My brother insisted we get off on the next exit and look for a hotel. He was ready to get his drink on and that didn’t sound half bad to me either.
We found a “hotel two blocks away” sign and headed in that direction. When we got there I slowed way down to scope out the lodging grounds. The motel was less than desirable. The sign was only a quarter lit, the parking lot crumbling, there were air conditions hanging out of the windows. And one of the room doors was open.
My brother said to me, “Hell son, yer bed probably already warm for ya.”
“Fuuuck no” I said as I eased the gas pedal down and we rolled past whatever Deliverance Inn we’d came across. Last thing I want is for somebody to be watching TV when I get into my hotel room.
PS- I don’t remember where we were when I took the photo shown. I think Nebraska. Maybe not. I think I was all done taking pictures by then.